


Homogeneous

by baeberiibungh



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Asexual Characters, Asexual Hannibal Lecter, Asexual Will Graham, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-09 22:45:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7820185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeberiibungh/pseuds/baeberiibungh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal is intrigued by Will and he wonders how similar they really are...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homogeneous

Franklin rattles on, something about sharing the same hobbies as evident by sharing the shop they buy cheese from. He enthuses and speaks of the depth of flavour, but all Hannibal hears is how Franklin is a glutton who would not hesitate to devour anything placed before him rather than indulge in the taste for a while. He does not understand the need for flavour to permeate all corners of the mouth, let it play a symphony with the saliva and present the vein deep secrets of earth and mineral in each fold of its flesh. Franklin licks his lips, and Hannibal does not know if it is his hunger for the cheese that he is still speaking about that is flooding his mouth or Hannibal himself.

Either way, it is distasteful. The corners of Hannibal’s lips twitch down as his nose flares in mild disgust, too quick and sudden that Franklin to miss it entirely. It is almost rude, how Franklin wants, no sense of propriety, but then he is someone who does not have the self esteem to actually step forward and be more explicit in his demand, in his entitlement to Hannibal’s affection. So, Hannibal just bides his time and tries to help Franklin as little and as much possible he can. To waste more would be fruitless and to not give any will be too pitiful. Hannibal settles back in his seat more comfortably and lets Franklin’s voice rush over him like the yapping of some small dog that does not know how easily breakable it is.

Hannibal meets Budge at the opera, in the midst of his formalities with his so called friends, introduced by a blustering Franklin. Budge sees him and there is instant recognition of untamed beasts and want for that beast. Hannibal notices the want, preens in it but takes no step to accelerate it. Budge sees that snub for what it is and hence the beautifully presented corpse with a wooden handle shoved down his throat. It is a performance that Budge prepares for Hannibal, his catch only Hannibal, his desire only him and the need to prove how small and needless other people are. Hannibal is impressed, just not enough to accept. Budge goes feral and dies a choking death at Hannibal’s hands. 

Hannibal detests rudeness, more than cruelty, more than pain. There is two kinds of rudeness, one that people are not exactly aware or conscious of and the other very deliberate and directed at personally. That is the kind of rudeness where a person sees you and decides at that moment and instant that you are not worthy of their respect. This is the kind of person who alludes to Hannibal’s accent as an oddity, the kind, if Hannibal were a bit more tan, would find more reasons to sneer and snicker. Rudeness like that and rude people like that are no better than life stock, fit only to grace a table as cuts of meats. Hannibal has always been a fan of people, particularly women, who does not submit to rudeness.

What Franklin and Budge had wanted from Hannibal had not been rude, but it had been things that Hannibal neither had any wish to provide nor any need to. Sex was more pleasurable played in the mind with words and looks. Hands need not touch at all or bodies collide. Hannibal was not aware of the word describing his own sexuality till late. And when he did, for him, it was just another affirmation as to how unique and different he is. As unique and different, Hannibal was surprised, as he found Will Graham. Will was a FBI consultant and under Hannibal’s spurious care under Jack Crawford’s direction. Will was rude too, but it was never personal and Hannibal found himself more and more enamoured. 

Will was a miracle, something that should not exist at all, certainly not at the age he is and still carry that heavy burden of innocence in spite of what he sees on a daily basis. Hannibal has to catch his breath every time Will catches his eyes because he does it so, so rarely. He inhabits the crime spaces, but never takes on the anger, the need to hurt, the bloodlust that stays still like a membrane of bad memories around a dead body, just like its smell. He doesn’t take on the desire either, of relationships gone bad and compelling people to do worse because of it. So Hannibal just watches, watches and wonders where Will and he might be similar and in what way.

Will is close to Alana, who acts quite the mother hen around him. Alana sees the beauty in Will too, doubtful who doesn’t, but she is reserved and wants only the best possible for Will, just like a lover who’s gone past love into friendship except they were never lovers. He is close to Beverly too, who treats him within the parameters of normal where Will is just another measurement of normal. With Alana, there is bowed heads, and soft smiles, while with Beverly it is loud laughs and jokes made at inopportune times. And Hannibal still watches, and notices how Will never touches anything, or anyone, but shares his camaraderie with soft shoulder shoves, such that if they were glass, it would be a friendly clink.

Hannibal and Will talk. Will says things never quite meeting Hannibal’s eyes and Hannibal indulges him every word and sentence. He listens, he listens to all that Will clearly speaks and all that he cannot utter with his mouth. He listens to Will rummage on his table, picking up odd little thinks and tinker with them as he speaks, his hands busy, eyes fixed on a faraway point in time and space and sad, always the sadness present and Hannibal never ceases to listen. He learns of Will’s heartbreaks, of his steps into trying to forge relationships that break like crumbling concrete when he admits to certain peculiarities (that is how Will says it to Hannibal, ‘peculiarities’) of his character and being.

Hannibal soothes over those fears, old memories alike, with carefully chosen words and carelessly shown smiles. And Will responds to him beautifully, almost as if Hannibal had drawn each of his steps in advance. There are walks then, steps taken near, of shoulders bumping into each other within steps that do not fumble and Hannibal hears the chink of that clink especially clear. Forehead rests on heads, hands on clothes and Hannibal feels most cherished. He hopes Will feels the same. If this were a fairy tale, there would be kisses, and fireworks going off with muted booms to light the sky. If this were a fairy tale, Hannibal would not be a cannibalistic serial killer and Will the only one capable of catching him.

But it is not a fairy tale, it is the reality, and how beautiful it still is.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love. Kudos too. Thanks for reading!


End file.
